


I Love You Twice

by WebbedUpKatanas



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1818061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WebbedUpKatanas/pseuds/WebbedUpKatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Peter says I love you, and the first time Wade says it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love You Twice

Cuddled up in bed one lazy morning with Wade’s scarred hand making circles on his hip Peter idly imagines a world where he would never have to leave his bed.

“That’s going to get really dirty really fast, and not in a good way” Wade tells his solemnly when he poses his idea to the panel of judges (the voices in Wade’s head totally count as separate judges).

“Okay, you have a point,” Peter agrees. His stomach rumbles loudly, reminding him of yet another impracticality of his stay-in-bed-forever thesis. Everyone’s a critic, he thinks dryly.

“I’m starved,” he pipes up, as though the rumble hasn’t already given him away. “Let’s get tacos.”

Wade groans, pulling Peter tighter to him. “But I was just starting to like that whole never leaving bed thing,” he whines, his leg curling around Peter’s, tangling them hopelessly in the sheets. The comment leaves Peter gaping at him in shock.

Wade turning down tacos. The world must be ending.

Voicing his concern earns Peter a tired chuckle and a kiss to the back of his head. “Quick, call the Avengers! Tell them I need tacos stat!”

The reply would be kind of endearing in that special ‘Wade is crazy’ way if he hadn’t shouted the words directly into poor Peter’s ear. He figures a lazy smack to the arm wrapped around his waist in retaliation will have to do for now because he’s too comfortable to move much more than that.

Wade sobers a bit, fingers digging into the flesh of Peter’s stomach, but he’s still chuckling. “Call me crazy but today I’m more interested in you than even the crunchy cheesy goodness that is the glorious taco.”

Peter turns over to look into Wade’s eyes.

“I love you too,” he says. It could almost pass as a joke, but for the soft tone that betrays the ringing sincerity of the words.

There’s a flicker of panic on Wade’s face before it softens to something akin to realization as he pulls him closer, kissing him like its the only thing he ever wants to do.

Peter is breathless and dizzy when he finally pulls away, both of them smiling.

“Okay, no chick flick moments,” Wade says, rolling away. “Let’s get those tacos.”

“You need to stop watching so much Supernatural. I think it might be making you crazier,” Peter gripes, sitting up and grabbing his boxers off the floor. He pulls on his clothes with only a few wistful glances back at the soft, warm nest of blankets they’ve just vacated.

“S’cuse you! Am I the one who implemented ‘Winchester Wednesdays’? ”

“Okay, no that was me. But last week you grabbed my ass and told me you were going to ‘grip me tight and raise me from perdition’,” Peter says with a pointed look.

He almost forgets about the tacos when the pointed look turns into some Destiel level eye-fucking, but Peter’s stomach decides to complain loudly once again, ruining the moment.

“So, Tacos?” Wade asks, grinning as he takes in Peter’s flushed face.

Peter distantly thinks it may be worth the extra crazy to watch a few more episodes later that night as Wade kisses him and tugs him out the door.

…..

Peter’s arm is wrapped in thick bloody gauze, he’s pretty sure his ankle is fractured, and it feels like there’s a jazz band throwing a party right behind his eyes.

Most normal people in his condition would probably be in the hospital, but Peter’s life is anything but normal. Instead, he’s lounging on the couch at Wade’s place as the man reenacts the battle that’s left Peter in such a battered state, complete with exaggerated voices and flailing hand gestures.

“Ah, careful,” he barks as Wade knocks his sore ankle in a particularly enthusiastic reproduction of a move which had apparently consisted of a lot more flailing and screaming than he remembers.

“Sorry princess,” Wade replies, but the snarky tone is undermined by the arm thrown around his shoulder as he pulls him in so that Peter’s head rests against him.

“There, now you’re out of the way,” he says, but Peter isn’t fooled. He knows this is part of the nefarious cuddling scheme that Wade has been enacting for quite a while now. He would call him out on it if Wade would just stop being so damn comfortable. He yawns, feeling warm and content with his cheek pressed against Wade’s chest, although that could be partially due to the pain meds Wade had ‘acquired’ for him on the way home.

Wade smells like blood even though the top part of his Deadpool outfit has been removed and thrown unceremoniously to the other side of the room. It’s kind of gross, but he can’t really talk because he’s pretty bloody himself, and besides he also just smells like Wade underneath it (and is that a hint of fresh cinnamon?) and it’s comforting to just be with him after such a long horrible day.

“And then that guy stabbed you, and I did that really badass roundhouse kick and then stabbed him right back!”

Wade goes silent for a minute so that all Peter can hear is the beating of his heart through his chest thundering in his ears.

He’s almost given in to the rhythm of it lulling him to sleep by the time Wade’s hand runs through his hair.

“You know I love you, right Pete?” he asks quietly, tilting his head to look at Peter’s face squished against his chest.

Peter smiles against a scar. “Ya, I know.”

He shifts to press his lips against Wade’s chest, finally letting the drowsy haze overcome him, muttering a soft “I love you too” as he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
